The Language of Flowers
by Daelena
Summary: The Black Tapes Podcast. The relationship between Alex Reagan and Dr. Richard Strand has taken its twists and turns, but they're in this together. Themes: romance and flower language.


 _Disclaimer_ _: I own absolutely nothing here. I am making no money off of this thing. It is only for my own enjoyment – and yours, of course, if you are reading it._

 _This has been a labor of love and research. I wanted to write something where flower language carried the theme for the Stubborn Skeptic and the Intrepid Journalist. I won't bore you with too much more discussion because, let's face it, you didn't come here to read about my ridiculous ramblings._

 _You all came here because you came for a whole lot of Stragan love._

 _At any rate, I'll leave you. Take a gander through this and enjoy my first meandering into "The Black Tapes."_

 _Enjoy!_

 _ **Gillyflower – Bonds of affection**_

It was being called the storm of the decade and, somehow, Alex Reagan and Dr. Richard Strand had managed to get themselves stuck in it because they had terrible luck like that. Alex wasn't sure who they had pissed off in their past lives to have such terrible karma.

Strand would say that there was no such thing as karma because he didn't believe in such things.

Since Strand had come back into her life after those three months away, he had been restless. Alex had noticed that right away. He didn't like sitting still. Even when they were working in her office at the station, he wasn't content to sit and talk over the latest case. The man would frequently end up prowling back and forth across her (admittedly small) office.

And today, she had had the brilliant idea to get them both out of the office. Arguably, getting out into the fresh air would have been good for them, plus getting a caffeine fix would be good for the both of them at this point. Alex had gotten them coffee (writing that off as a business expense for the station to pay off because, technically, they were working on her show and caffeine kept them focused). Well, she got coffee. Strand was still a contrarian (that much hadn't changed) and ordered tea.

So, when the storm hit, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards her apartment. They were close enough as it was.

Strand, being Strand, grumbled the whole way there.

But that was just his way.

He stopped grumbled, however, once they were safely inside her building and she unlocking the front door of her second-floor apartment. All things considered (and certainly in comparison to Strand's place), it was comfortably modest, but it was home and she wouldn't have it any other way. Hell, Strand stopped his grumbling as soon as he zeroed in on her bookshelves and the rather eclectic range of titles housed there.

Yes, it was strange to have Dr. Richard Strand, uber-skeptic and her regular stubborn collaborator, in her apartment, but Alex was able to push that out feeling out of the way soon enough, especially when she saw him start pulling books off of her shelves. The look on his face when he flipped through one and saw the signature on the cover page was priceless. Strand raised an eyebrow, looking back to her with a question in his eyes.

Alex just grinned and walked into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. They were going to need to warm up.

"Your library is quite impressive," he said, when they settled in her living room, both cradling a cup of steaming tea.

She shrugged mildly and offered, "It comes with the territory, I suppose. Plus, with everything that's been going on in my life of late, I find reading to be incredibly relaxing."

Alex had taken to reading as a distraction from her insomnia, so she had gone through a lot of books of late and her library had grown greatly as a result. (Her bank account, however, had taken quite the hit though.)

His little grin held so much.

And so, they didn't get anything done for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, their conversation turned to books and philosophy, which spiraled, as these conversations usually did, into a rather heated debate over a difference of opinions. But at least, this time, it wasn't so much an argument stemmed from their work on the Black Tapes, but more of a scholarly discourse where they were on level footing. (Alex certainly didn't want to punch Strand this time, which was an improvement.)

As it would happen, without the Black Tapes and the mystery of Coralee hanging over their heads and, quite frankly, removed from the stresses of the world, they were capable of having a wholly comfortable conversation. It was nice actually.

If Alex wasn't mistaken, she saw the slow way that Strand relaxed as time went on. The tension eased from his body and he stretched his long legs out in front of him, leaning back in the rocking chair she'd appropriated from her parents, his fingers curled around the mug. Over the course of the afternoon, she'd refilled both their tea multiple times.

Nic might have wanted them to produce something, but he also knew the workload they were operating under. After all, he was also waist-deep in work for his own show and so he knew the situation that they were in. She and Strand needed an afternoon away from their work to rest and recover from all of this. They certainly deserved that much.

By the time the sun lowered in the sky and their stomachs reminded them of the need for dinner, Alex was sure that some distance between them had been bridged. It certainly felt like that. And Strand thought the same as well because he silenced any of her arguments about offering to make him dinner. In fact, he made the declaration that he would handle dinner.

For a moment, she thought that he would end up ordering something, but she was pleasantly surprised when he raided her kitchen and set about making spaghetti and meatballs. Alex offered to help him, but Strand waved her away at each offering.

There was no denying the warmth in his eyes every time he did though.

 _ **Allspice – Compassion**_

The weight of searching for Coralee bore heavily on Dr. Richard Strand. So far, that search was for naught, despite how valiant his efforts had been. That much was clear, especially to those who operated within his orbit for any length of time.

It wasn't until he came back into her life that Alex realized that she disliked seeing him carrying such a burden on his own. But the man had survived on his own and with no support for so long. With his wife missing and his daughter disowning him, Strand had good cause to withdraw into himself and not rely on others for help and support. The man believed that he could operate on his own in perpetuity. But, with that mindset, he couldn't see how close he was to cracking from underneath that stress.

Strand needed a break from that search. The man was on a downward spiral that would only result in implosion if he didn't get any answers.

But, now that they were working together again on a regular basis, Alex couldn't help but worry about him. It was only inevitable. They were colleagues and whatever this friendship was between them was still new.

He wouldn't tell her when he was weak – and certainly not in so many words. He wasn't that kind of man.

Strand asked for her help in his research and offered his own assistance on her own project. In that respect, he was fine.

It was his personal life where Strand was a mess.

Alex knew by now that she could not push him to talk about it until he was ready – if he ever would be. But she could at least be there to lend her support to him in less obvious ways. It was the best that she could do to ease some of his troubles, if only for a little while.

Which often resulted in them having a lot of afternoon conversations that turned into dinners in her apartment.

Whenever Strand was in Seattle, her apartment and the station were usually the first places he showed his face. They would talk regularly, when he was back in Chicago or when they were traveling separately for the show and on cases. But those conversations in her apartment were sacrosanct.

It was time between friends and it was the chance for them to unburden themselves with the stresses of the outside world to be two people who were learning how to be friends. Alex could only offer friendship and support and a space where they didn't have to be anything other than two people.

And that was enough.

 _ **Blue salvia – I think of you**_

Until she came home after spending a solid twelve hours at the station in production meetings, editing her next episode, and responding to emails from her leads and there was a package waiting for her at her door.

Alex blinked at that, taken aback.

At this point, she was hesitant of any package that showed up on her doorstep by surprise. It was a healthy level of paranoia on her part (and probably something to do with Strand being in her life and she knew that he was rubbing off on her at this point). That being said, she had opened herself up to a lot of very strange people after the premier of her show. Regardless of her standing on the supernatural and the paranormal, there were still plenty of people out there who were just plain strange. (She and Strand had gotten their fair share of groupies since the premier of the show.)

But then she saw the note stuck on top of the package. The handwriting was distinctive and she would know it anywhere by now.

Bending down, she grabbed the package, balancing it carefully in one hand while she unlocked her door. It took her a few minutes to drop her bag and to be able to focus on the package and the note.

 _Ms. Reagan,_ Strand wrote, _I realize that I may have been imposing upon you greatly of late. If that has been an inconvenience, I apologize. But please take this as a token of my appreciation of your friendship of late. It has made a lot to me and you have been unfailingly kind. Sincerely, Richard Strand._

A smile crossed her lips.

Strand could pretty awkward at times and Alex knew that. He wasn't particularly good at expressing his personal emotions, at least not out loud. Writing was easier for him clearly, though there was still the endearing awkwardness of Strand's note.

Alex put the note down onto her table and grabbed the Swiss Army knife she kept in her bag to open the package up. When she did, her breath was taken away.

The book was leather-bound and was heavy in her hand. Gingerly, she turned it over, reveling in this wholly unexpected gift. Homer's _Odyssey_ was one of her all-time favorite books. Alex knew that she had mentioned that once to Strand, but only in passing. She certainly hadn't expected him to remember that – and certainly hadn't expected that he would send her a leather-bound edition of the book as well.

And definitely not one that was personalized by the translator!

Richard Strand might be many things. Certainly, a lot of the things to be said about him were negative. Thoughtful and in possession of a steel-trap memory were clearly two of his positive qualities.

 _ **Phlox – Agreement; sweet dreams**_

And, apparently, another thing that Alex hadn't know about Dr. Richard Strand, bull-headed professor and debunking extraordinaire, was that he was also having trouble sleeping.

For all their many heart-to-heart conversations late into the night, that particular bit took a while to come up. In fact, it might not have come up at all, if they hadn't been off on a research trip and ended up sharing a motel room out in the middle of God only knew where. Even then, they had realized that particular comparison only after Alex had made mention (in passing) of her not-a-dream-journal. As soon as Strand found out why she had that, he shifted, looked at his feet, and admitted to having similar sleeping problems.

"So, what now?" Alex asked as she sat down on the bed next to him

Despite having a solid nine inches between them, something electric passed between them and she was hyper-aware of him at her side. It took all of her focus to stay still, to not look over and up at him. Whatever was happening to the two of them, it was not normal.

"I have no idea," Strand admitted after a long minute.

Alex exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "It sucks though."

"Yes, it does," Strand agreed.

On the bedside table between the two beds of their room, the clock read the time in bright red numbers. It was slowly ticking into the wee hours of the morning. Despite her body yearning for sleep, Alex knew the likelihood of getting the sleep she needed would be unlikely. And there was Strand, his own troubles a direct mirror to hers.

She groaned, desperately resisting the urge to scream. This was all incredibly frustrating.

A hand cautiously took hers, squeezing. Alex jumped, startled, twisting to look at Strand, who released her hand immediately with an apologetic look on his face. She relaxed and looked down at the bed.

His hand was only two inches from hers, a scant distance that was so close and yet so far at the same time.

Strand had been trying to make an effort by taking her hand, an effort to offer her some small comfort in all of this. That much was obvious. Now that the initial surprise of him taking her hand had worn off, Alex realized that it was actually sweet, especially for Strand, to do that, if only her honest surprise hadn't caused him to pull away. She didn't think that he would try again.

So Alex took these matters into her own hands.

Suddenly bold, Alex reached over and slipped her hand into his, curling her fingers around his palm. Strand shifted his hand and laced their fingers together. His hand was larger than hers, but it was also strong, surprising warm, and incredibly comfortable. Strand's fingers were long, lean, the pads rough against her skin.

Handholding was such a simple thing, but it was also a source of immense comfort and strength.

Alex looked up at him. Their eyes met in the dark of the motel room. His lips curled into a tiny smile. She returned the smile, scooted closer to him, and carefully leaned her head against her shoulder. Strand squeezed her hand again. The gesture was simple, sweet.

Neither one said anything more. There was nothing more to be said.

When they both finally found sleep, it was in the same bed and carefully wrapped up in each other's arms. Nic and more than a few others at the station might have cracked jokes about them sleeping together, but this had nothing to do with the euphemism. Instead, Alex found safety when Strand looped one arm around her as they lay close together, his other hand still clasped tightly in hers. Her free hand cradled his head, her fingers lightly playing with his grown-out hair.

For the longest time, Alex hadn't thought that longer hair suited Strand, but his scruffiness had grown on her of late. Strand certainly didn't seem to mind her playing with his hair. If anything, the groan that escaped his lips as she massaged a particular spot indicated that he liked it.

Then, not too long after that and for the first time in many months, both Alex Reagan and Dr. Richard Strand, podcasters and paranormal investigators, had a good night's sleep not plagued by dreams or disturbed REM cycles.

 _ **White violet – Let's take a chance on happiness**_

Something changed between them after that night, even more than that first rainy afternoon in her apartment.

Neither Alex nor Strand – _Richard_ – had the words to describe that change. They both knew that something was different. Neither was going to complain though. This was good for them both.

When they got back to Seattle from this research trip, it was with the knowledge that both slept so much better in each other's embrace. Alex had no problem with making copies of her keys and giving them to him. He already spent enough time there was it was, when they weren't working, on trips, or when he was in Chicago.

Under any other circumstance, the notion of having someone, particularly a man (and one like Richard Strand), move in with her might have given Alex reason to pause. But it was Richard and this was a very unique situation. And it wasn't necessarily that he was moving in as it was that Alex and Richard acknowledged that their friendship – their relationship – was heading into a certain direction, even if they didn't say it in so many words.

After all, very little changed about her apartment, save for the fact that there was more food in the refrigerator, his clothes had their own space in the closet and the dresser, his books were started to show up on her shelves, and his toothbrush was next to hers in the bathroom.

And they shared a bed, finding simple comfort in each other's arms.

It felt natural to slip into bed next to him. That was what surprised Alex more than anything else about their situation.

Very little changed for them professionally after this. It was some unspoken agreement. Unless directly confronted by someone at the station – or Nic, more likely – Alex wouldn't offer their relationship up because this was personal and both clung to that privacy, especially given how much they offered up, intentionally or not, in their investigations and on the show.

But she could get used to coming home to someone. It wasn't all the time though, because Richard split his time between Chicago and Seattle with his obligations requiring him to be in both cities.

For a while, Alex didn't know what to call the whatever-it-was between them. It was certainly much more than roommates and they were a lot closer than friends. She didn't really want to broach the subject with Richard and, quite frankly, she wasn't sure that this thing really needed a label, if a label for it even existed.

But one day, about two months after Richard's unofficial move-in, she came home from the station after a long and grueling day of production meetings, recording, and editing and there was a small vase containing a bouquet of white violets. They were beautiful.

A smile crossed her lips as she bent down to pick up the vase.

The door was unlocked, an indication that Richard was home, which was a surprise for her because he was supposed to be in Chicago until the end of the week.

Alex gave him a raised eyebrow as she closed the door behind her. He rose from his position on the rocking chair, his favorite spot in the living room, and set the book he had been leisurely perusing onto the coffee table.

"Alex," he stated, quite matter-of-factly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming in early?" she asked, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and setting it down by the couch.

"Element of surprise, I suppose." Strand looked down at the vase of flowers still clutched in her hands. His eyes were sparkling with mirth. "Do you like the flowers?"

She looked down at them. "Yes, I do."

"Do you know what white violets mean?" Alex shook her head. Richard crossed the room, stopping at an arm's length from her. Up close, she saw the cautious hope that was shielded behind his glasses. Her heart skipped a beat. She shook her head at him, prompting the man to continue. "It's a question and a chance, Alex." He shifted his weight noticeably. Good Lord, was Richard Strand actually nervous? Alex never thought that she would live to see that day, but, nevertheless, she didn't rush him. (She knew him better by now.) "Alex, I am not an easy person to get along with. I know this. But, somehow, you've stuck with me. In the last few months, I realized that you mean a lot to me, certainly more than as a colleague or as a friend." He paused to draw a breath. "I only hope you feel the same way about me."

As he spoke, Alex stepped around him to put the vase onto the coffee table next to his book. The dots had connected in her head. When she turned back to him, Strand had confusion dancing across his eyes.

"Are you finished?" she asked. He blinked slowly and nodded. A sly smile worked its way across her lips. Alex reached up, grabbed the front of his shirt, said, "Good," and then she kissed him heartily.

 _ **Lemon Balm – Brings love**_

The kiss deepened and Richard's arms wrapped around her quickly. Damn! If Alex had known that he was such this good of a kisser, then she probably would have done this a whole lot sooner.

When they parted to come up for air, Richard blinked owlishly at her. He did that a lot when he was thrown into an unexpected situation, she realized. His glasses were knocked somewhat askew. Automatically, the man reached up to straighten them, but Alex beat him to the punch, reaching up to slip them off of his face, folding them up and putting them down onto the coffee table.

Before Richard could say something, Alex pulled him back in for another kiss.

And that broke the dam that held back their emotions.

Neither one would ever know who made the first move towards the bedroom, but one way or another, they ended up there and Alex was perfectly happy about that fact. Richard was confident in his movements, guiding her to bed. They made slow, tender love as they learned one another's bodies and responses.

As with many other things in his life, Richard was incredibly attentive and almost singularly focused on her needs. When she tried to turn the tides and give him equal attention, he pulled back slightly and shushed her with a smile.

"Not now," he chided, pressing his forehead against hers. "Let me love you tonight, Alex." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You deserve this."

She kissed him. He returned it eagerly.

"Turnabout is fair play, Richard," she reminded him, when she pulled back. "I give as good as I get."

And, as Alex soon found out, that was some damn good incentive for him.

 _ **Feverfew - Protection**_

"We'll need to keep this private," Richard said as he pressed a feather-light kiss to the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. Alex made a noise as she stretched lazily out in bed next to him, reveling in how he molded around her so easily and so comfortably. It was amazing just how natural this all was. "I'm being serious, Alex. I don't want to put you at risk because of what's going on between us."

She twisted around in his loose embrace, turning so that she could look at him in the eyes. There was honesty and fear and love written so plainly across his face. For a moment, Alex considered teasing him, but this was serious and Richard wouldn't take such teasing so well.

And it was important.

"I know, Richard." Alex slid an arm up his side, her fingers dancing over the planes and angles of his body. She relished the sensation of his skin under her palm. "With the show, we're already in the public eye with that." A shiver ran up her spine. The memory of her most recent phone call with Simon Reese flashed across her mind and, for a moment, she could hear the sing-song tone that his voice always took at the end of any phone call she had with him. "There's a lot of strange out there that we've gotten ourselves wrapped up with."

"That's one way to put it." Richard cupped her face with a hand. Incredible sadness flashed across his face again. "Alex, I've lost so much and I don't want to lose you too because we weren't being careful."

"And we will be."

Richard leaned over and kissed her gently.

"Alex Reagan, I care for you immensely. I don't want you to get hurt or have something happen to you because of me." There was old sadness in his voice. "Too many people have been hurt, simply by being associated with me."

Now that just didn't sit well with her. Something coursed through her. She sat up in bed and leveled a stern gaze at him.

"Richard Strand, if you're going to be self-righteous and try to protect me, don't. I'm a big girl and we're in this together, whether you like it or not, okay?" Alex reached over and took his hand in hers. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I'm not letting you go and I'm not going to leave you. You hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

 _ **Maidenhair Fern – Secret bond of love**_

And yet, despite their best efforts, Nic, Mel, and Ruby all figured out that they were together pretty quickly.

Actually, that didn't surprise Alex all that much. All three were incredibly smart people and they all associated so closely with both Alex and Richard. If they hadn't discovered that the two were romantically involved, well that would have been a massive disappointment.

Nic figured it out first. That was inevitable though. With the amount of work he did on their show, he was bound to hear them slip up in the takes that they wouldn't send to air. He didn't have to say anything though, at least not directly. The man just gave Richard a very stern look and said, "Try to be more careful on tape next time."

As for Mel and Ruby, well the two knew Richard well enough by now to know that he had gone to the next level with her pretty damn quickly. Plus, with the amount of work they did with the Institute, they had known him for years, so they could gauge when something like this had happened to him.

Over one very interesting phone call, Ruby had, point-blank, told Alex, "You have no idea how much he missed you during those three months, Alex. If you two hadn't started working together again when you did, I was going to drive his sorry ass out to your apartment and leave him on your doorstep for you to deal with."

(Apparently, she and Mel had had bets going as to when they'd get together. Alex didn't dare ask who won though. She didn't really didn't want to know.)

But, beyond those three, she and Richard are exceedingly careful to keep their relationship private.

Because Richard was right that they run across a full spectrum of strange and crazy in the course of doing their work. Revealing that they were pursuing a personal relationship would only open themselves up to a lot of potential problems. Plus, there was still the mystery of Coralee. She already knew that Richard's long-missing wife was a gaping wound on his heart, one that still hurt after nearly twenty years to come to grips with her disappearance and all the reasons surrounding the break-down of their relationship.

He wasn't going to say it still hurt, but Alex could read between the lines. His renewed dedication to finding Coralee was the fire under his butt, so to speak, when they weren't busy working on cases for their podcast. (It was fast becoming _their_ podcast too because, despite what she had initially set out to do, he had become an integral part of it all.)

With all that in mind, it hadn't taken her very realize that skepticism and debunking the paranormal weren't the only things that Richard was passionate about.

Richard was incredibly attentive to her needs. Before, sharing a bed meant that they slept with their limbs intertwined and their hands clasped tightly as a way to stave off the things that kept up at night. Now, well now Alex pleasantly enjoyed being woken up on a regular basis by his hands dancing up and down her sides and his gentle kisses. (Richard was more of a morning person than she was.) On the lazy mornings, she would wake to find him bringing in coffee and those gentle kisses he offered escalated to so much more.

But it wasn't always easy though.

Working in the station could be hard at time, when things got too busy and they didn't have time for themselves. There was fire in their looks and electricity in their touches, carefully keeping things under wraps. But those times in the privacy of her office where they would steal quick kisses. Alex knew that she flushed from those stolen moments and they would both forcibly keep themselves under control until they went back to her apartment and drank in one another.

There was something different about this relationship in comparison to every other relationship she'd had in the past. Maybe it was the security that she felt with Richard or maybe it was in the way that he opened up to her, slowly and in pieces at first, but then more and more over time.

Before she knew it, Richard Strand had woven himself into her life and her heart and Alex loved it.

 _ **Cactus – Endurance**_

Things took a turn for the worse. These things always did.

As much as Richard could explain things away, the frequency with which the Shadow Man, the sacred geometry, the upside down faces, and certain demons came up in the cases that they explored was increasing. It wasn't just coincidence anymore. Even Richard had to admit that the frequency with which they saw these things was almost unexplainable.

Ruby called him about an unexpected package of materials that had arrived at the Institute and he flew back to Chicago to deal with it. He'd called her as soon as he got back into his office there to fill her in on the details. The materials covered some extraordinarily obscure and very detailed folklore that was relevant to their most recent case, a group of teens who had heard the Unsound and had dealings with sacred geometry. Apparently, the Shadow Man was involved. Richard didn't buy it, but Alex wasn't ruling anything out at this point.

She had kept digging on her end and that's when she came discovered that each of the kids involved had had repeated sightings of the Shadow Man. Alex called Richard almost immediately with that new development before heading back to the station to plow through this new information and to map out how it was all involved.

Alex hadn't seen the truck that hit her. It had run the red light and T-boned her. She was knocked out on impact.

When she came to, it took her a minute to realize where she was. The beeping of the hospital machines was a give-away. She blinked, trying to clear her head and gain her bearings.

"Alex?" Her mother's voice was full of worry. She turned and blinked again, registering that her mother was at her bedside.

"Mom?" Alex groaned in pain. "What happened?"

"You were hit by a car, Alex." Maxine Reagan reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. "You got lucky, dear, with how the car hit you."

"How bad?"

She couldn't speak more than a few words at a time. The breath just wouldn't stay in her lungs long enough for that.

"A broken leg, shattered ankle, fractured wrist, and a few cracked ribs." Her mother paused and, after a moment, clicked her tongue in that way that Alex recognized. (She used it on a regular basis during their Sunday phone calls because Alex wasn't married yet – and, as far as her mother knew, she wasn't even close to being married.) "That Dr. Strand fellow you've been working with got here a few hours after you were brought in. He only left when Nic told him to go get some sleep."

She grinned just a bit. Richard probably didn't get much sleep, even if it was in her – their – bed.

"Is he here?" she managed.

Her mother blinked.

"Yes. Apparently, he can charter a flight from Chicago to Seattle whenever he wants."

That didn't come as too much of a surprise to Alex. Richard had a ridiculous amount of money and he had no qualms about spending it without a second thought.

There was a knock on the door. Her mother was quick to answer it. A nurse came bustling in with a smile. "It's good to see you awake, Ms. Reagan. You had a nasty crash there." Alex smiled at her. There was no good way for her to ask the nurse if she could see Richard alone. But, fortunately for her, she didn't have to ask. Once the nurse had checked her vitals, the woman said, "Your friend, Dr. Strand, has been waiting. Would you like to see him?"

Alex nodded quickly.

Moments later, Richard came striding into the room, his eyes solely on her and his hand reaching for her non-broken one. The concern and fierce love shone past his glasses. He didn't even look over at her mother, who crossed her arms as Alex's Skeptic Extraordinaire drew alongside the injured Reagan. Alex smiled at him, her heart and spirit rising. There were a thousand and three things that they could say, but they had to censure those words with the audience. But this wasn't an easy place to be in.

And then Alex realized that she didn't want to censure herself anymore. She didn't care that she was lying in a hospital bed or that her mother and the nurse were in the room. He was there and he had gotten to the hospital as quickly as he could from Chicago. The lack of sleep was evident on his face.

With a burst of strength, she pulled him close to her. Automatically, he cupped her face and pressed his forehead against hers. His breath was warm on her face.

"You had me worried," he whispered. Part of her wanted to apologize, but Richard continued, "I love you, Alex."

"I love you too, Richard."

She closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his, a gentle kiss he quickly returned with care.

And, for once, the astounded gasp from her mother was actually hilarious. At any rate, the cat was out of the proverbial bag now.

By the time she was fit to be released from the hospital, the word was quietly put around to their immediate co-workers that they were an item. All of the interns at the station had a party, according to Nic. Someone won a pretty massive bet off of them apparently. Yet, despite that, she and Richard agreed that they still would keep it from the general public, especially in light of her recent car crash and injuries.

Her mother had been appalled by the knowledge of their relationship. Richard was not the kind of person she wanted Alex to be with. But Alex was not going to break up with Richard to satisfy her mother's wishes.

At any rate, her recovery from the car crash would be long and arduous and Richard was at her side every step of the way. When she stumbled through crutches and wheelchairs, his full attention was on her. Alex didn't like how clumsy she was now, but Richard was a wealth of strength for her at this time.

Nic had made the announcement on the podcast that she'd been in an accident and that they were taking a break to allow her time to recover. She could've hugged her friend and producing partner for that.

 _ **Heliotrope – Devotion; eternal love; faithfulness**_

Her recovery was long and arduous.

Richard was at her side the entire time. What work he could do for the Institute could be done remotely. Mel and Ruby handled the day-to-day operations in Chicago. More than once, Alex told him that he could go back to Chicago for as long as he needed, whenever he needed to go. (Nic would happily drop everything and fill in for Richard. The man said so on numerous occasions.) Richard gaped at her every time she made that offer, so Alex knew that she would never win in that case.

It took two months before the casts came off of her leg, foot, and wrist. Even after that, she still had physical therapy for the atrophied muscles. The whole process was expensive. Her insurance covered most of it. Richard basically acting as her live-in nurse certainly covered some costs.

Ever since she and Richard confirmed their love in her hospital room, it had really changed between them. They admitted their love for one another out loud.

Having never been married, Alex didn't know what it was like to have a husband, but the way that Richard was devoted to her during this recovery showed her what it might be like to have one.

When she was recovered enough to return to the station to work on a regular basis, both she and Richard were met with warm greetings. Alex hadn't known what to expect to find in her office, but she was pleased to find that the interns had rearranged things to make it more comfortable during her recovery. (Richard didn't bother to hide his grin when he realized that he had a proper desk chair and desk space of his own in the office.)

And that was that.

It soon became a common sight to see them walking side-by-side through the station. Richard's hand was usually pressed against the small of the back, a gentle reassurance of his presence and an offering of strength when her still-recovering strength flagged. Alex would lean into him whenever they had a moment alone.

 _ **Eupatorium – Delay**_

"I'm going to find Coralee," Richard told her one lazy Sunday morning as they lay in bed. Alex looked at him with a raised eye and he grinned that special little half-grin of his before pressing a butterfly kiss to her stomach. "Really find her, I mean."

"What brought that on?" Alex asked, looking down at him.

He exhaled.

"The need for closure. Solving the mystery." Richard looked back up at her. "You."

"Me?"

Richard pressed a line of kisses up her stomach. Alex ran her hand through his hair, her fingers smoothing the whirlwind strands.

"Alex, when you were in that accident, all I could think about was that you were in the hospital and I was in Chicago. When I got out here, there was no way that I could be in there with you, not once your mother showed up. I wasn't immediate family."

Something turned inside of Alex. She shifted, sitting up in the bed. He pushed himself up as well, letting one hand fall to her hip.

"What are you saying, Richard?"

"That I want to be with you and commit myself to you completely." He ran a hand through his hair. "But I can't do that, not with Coralee still out there somewhere." A flush crossed his cheeks. Something crossed her mind and Alex couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. Richard pressed on, "Alex Reagan, I want to marry you and I can't do that properly, not until I've found her."

"You want to marry me?" she asked, wanting the confirmation. "You mean that?"

Warmth, desire, and love danced across his face. For a moment, Alex could hardly believe that this was the same man whose abrasive personality had initially taken her by surprise and had made him very few friends. But then he pulled himself up to her, cupping her face with one hand. His thumb brushed against her skin softly.

"Yes, Alex, I do. More than anything." She leaned forward, wrapping her arm around him. For just a moment, Richard was stiff, but then he melted into her embrace, one arm encircling her, the other planted on the bed to keep them stable.

"Silly man," she whispered. "You sure do know how to keep a girl waiting."

"So you'll marry me? Once this is all resolved?"

Alex pulled away from and, grinning, said, "Only if you ask me properly."

He made a face. But Richard took her left hand in between his, turning it over gently, his fingers dancing over the delicate inner skin of her wrist. Little shivers ran up her arm at that touch.

"When the time is right, I'll do the asking," he promised in a husky voice. "But, until then, I want you to know that you have my heart." The man lifted her wrist and pressed a kiss to her pulse point. "Alex, I know that I am not putting you into a good position, not with knowing that Coralee is still out there." He exhaled deeply, his eyes heavy with sadness. "I wish it wasn't like this."

"But it is what it is," she said.

 _ **Myrtle – Love; love in absence; remembrance; Hebrew emblem of love**_

Nic was the one who put the idea into their heads. He was the one who mentioned that language behind myrtle trees. Alex thought it was beautiful symbolism and she knew that Richard had struck on an idea almost immediately.

On a random Wednesday afternoon, once she had gotten out of an extra-long production meeting from the station, Richard had that tell-tale look on his face, where she knew that he had come up with some kind of plan for them. Alex leaned against the door of her office, crossing her arms over her chest and passing a silent question to Richard. He unfolded his long legs from under his side of the desk and stood up, taking the three steps it normally took for him to get to the door in two.

He reached for her hand, squeezing tightly. "Let's go," Richard said with no preamble.

"Are you going to tell me where or is it going to be a surprise?" Alex asked lightly.

His laugh was encouraging.

And that was how Alex Reagan and Dr. Richard Strand ended up in a small tattoo parlor in Seattle that day, getting matching myrtle tree tattoos on the insides of their left wrists. It hurt almost as bad as all of her broken bones put together, but the pain was well worth it.

The next day, as the tattoos were still healing, Richard flew back to Chicago to check in with Ruby and Mel at the Institute. He had been reluctant to go, since the last time that he had gone to Chicago was when she'd ended up in an accident and the hospital. Alex had near about dragged him to the airport all the same.

Besides, she was only going to be in the station for the rest of the day to record and edit for the next podcast and to provide some production assistance to Nic for his show. Since her car had been totaled in the accident, she was just going to take a taxi from the airport to the station, which did ease Richard's mind some.

Nic, however, went a little mental when they had sat down to discuss their shows over lunch. Scratch that, her friend had done a fish impression for a solid two minutes before he could form words properly. His voice actually managed to hit another octave when she told him that Richard had a matching tattoo in the same place. Alex only wished that she had had a camera to capture the whole thing because the recording that she made didn't quite do the whole thing justice. (Richard would appreciate hearing it later though.)

"That's not what I was expecting when I mentioned what myrtle meant," he admitted at last.

Alex shrugged casually at him. "Blame Richard for that one." A grin crossed her lips and her fingers danced over her wrist. The tattoo itched some, but that was to be expected. "Besides, it's the next best thing to going to the court house and having the justice marry us, just to have it over and done with."

"Excuse me?"

Well, that bit of news would have reached him eventually.

"It's going to happen," Alex chided him, "hopefully sooner rather than later."

 _ **Amaranth – Fidelity**_

Getting the tattoos really symbolized their commitment to one another. In everything but the actual ceremony, they were each other's heart and soul.

Maxine Reagan took a long time to come around to the idea of Alex being in a relationship with Richard. She refused to acknowledge that they were anything more than boyfriend and girlfriend, though neither Alex nor Richard liked that term (and, quite frankly, those descriptors didn't necessarily apply to them anymore, not since the tattoos). But she did manage to keep her act together to arrange a nice dinner where Richard could meet the rest of Alex's immediate family.

She wouldn't tell him that in so many words, but Alex thought that it was amusing to see Richard Strand squirm under the intense interrogation of her father.

Yet, despite how weird a meal it was, Richard handled the whole situation with as much aplomb and delicacy as could be expected. That is to say, he was stared down both of her parents and defended their relationship with same amount of passion that he brought to his works. The only indication that he was getting annoyed by the constant peppering was when he took her hand in his under the table.

"Mr. Reagan," Richard said easily, "I understand your concern for Alex, but you have to accept that she's a grown woman and is perfectly capable of making her own decisions."

Brandon Reagan cocked an eyebrow across the table. "And you think that you're the best option for her?"

Alex's hackles raised at that implication.

"Yes, Dad," she said, quite pointedly. She squeezed Richard's hand and laid her other hand on top of the table, making sure that her father saw the tattoo on her wrist. (He had nearly blown a gasket when he first found out that she gotten inked in a place that wasn't easily covered.) "I know you want the best for me. Maybe you don't have to like Richard, but that's okay. You wouldn't be the first person to dislike him." Alex looked over at Richard and grinned. He seemed to read her mind because he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her, a grin tugging easily at the corner of her lips. "And you certainly won't be the last to find him an obnoxious bastard. But, if you love me at all, Dad, you need to accept the fact that we're together and we're not planning on breaking up."

Father and daughter had a stare-down and the father looked away first.

"I'm so sorry for all this," she whispered to Richard as they were walking out of the restaurant.

"It was inevitable though," he whispered back. "At least it's over and done with."

Getting through the dreaded first dinner with the parents was a major milestone in any relationship. In most cases, that probably would have happened before they moved in with one another, but Richard had essentially moved in with her months ago and they were in the process of looking for a bigger place as it were. (Given the number of books that he kept shipping over, they would need more space if only for their combined libraries.)

 _ **Dandelion – Wishes come true; faithfulness; happiness**_

Richard's ongoing quest for Coralee was going slowly.

Despite what progress they had made since she had started the podcast, there will still questions and brick walls at every turn. Alex kept a brave face on for him, but she could tell that dredging these questions back up was weighing even heavier on him then before.

However, it all changed literally over night.

Ruby called Richard directly at six in the morning on a Thursday with a massive break in the case and the two of them were getting onto a private charter plane exactly seven hours later. Alex had offered to stay behind in Seattle. As much as she wanted to be there, this was also something that Richard probably should do alone. But he was adamant that she come along. With everything that they had been through thus far, he argued, she deserved to be there.

They'd decide how to broach the subject on the podcast later. This came first.

What they found in Lake Tahoe solved the mystery of Coralee Strand to their satisfaction. Richard ran the full gambit of emotions throughout this entire process.

Coralee Strand was not what Alex expected.

Of all the things that were waiting for them in Lake Tahoe, the answers that they found were the most surprising.

It would have been incredibly easy if the woman that they were looking for was there, waiting for them. But that was not the case. Coralee Strand herself remained in the wind, but Alex wasn't surprised by that really. (Richard was disappointed that they didn't find her in person, but he played that down skillfully.)

There were a lot of things that Alex could say. However, she knew when to censure herself on the matter.

All that mattered that Corallee was alive and well. She knew that Richard had been looking for her. But she wanted him to stop. Whatever had happened between them twenty years before, both had moved on and changed since then. They both had new lives that they had built for themselves.

What mattered now was that they had their answers and Richard had his closure. Among the materials that she left for them, Coralee left copies of filed divorce papers, freeing Richard from their marriage. That had come at a complete surprise to the both of them. There was so much emotion and weight that came with those papers that they could not just feel happiness. (Happiness would come eventually, but they had to process through the rest of their emotions first.)

 _ **Agapanthus – Love letters**_

There was a pot containing a tall pink-leafed flower sitting on her office desk.

Alex grinned as she settled down into her chair, knowing who it was from. The flower itself was beautiful, but she saw the small envelope taped to the pot. Carefully pulling it off, she could tell that there was more than just paper in that envelope. Something surged inside in her as she turned it over in her hands and broke the seal.

She pulled the note out first, leaving the object hidden in the envelope for the time being. (Alex already knew what it was with nearly absolute certainty.)

 _Alex,_ Richard wrote in his steady handwriting, _I love you. There are a hundred and fifty ways that I could say this, but none of those words are good enough for you. When I told you I would marry you, I was being honest. I am ready when you are. With all the love in my heart, Richard._

If she didn't know him any better, Alex would say that he was a soppy, love-sick fool. But she also knew that Richard was a man of his word and, when his heart was involved, he would not deny what was there.

Reaching into the envelope again, she pulled out the second object. It glinted warmly in the light.

Sliding the ring onto a very particular finger of her left hand, Alex reached for her office phone. There were two people she needed to call and Nic would have her head if she didn't call him as soon as she got off the phone with Richard to tell him that, yes, she would marry him and that he better get his ass back to Seattle on the double because they were going down to the court house and getting this done as soon as it was humanly possible to do so.

After all, Nic already had their reception half-planned.

 _ **Spiderflower – Elope with me**_

As always, Richard looked dashingly handsome in a suit.

If the looks that Mel and Ruby had on their faces were anything to go by, that suit was, on top of being impeccably tailored, brand new. (The two women deserved raises for the amount of work they did. Alex needed to have a serious talk with Richard about that because his assistants were two unfailingly capable and enormously resource women. She almost wanted to steal them away from the Institute, but that wouldn't be fair to Richard.)

It took them a few days to get everything sorted out and Nic called in a few favors, but they were in the courthouse, dressed appropriately, and there were rings. Alex was even wearing white. (Her mother had insisted upon taking her shopping for a dress just the day before and Alex hadn't fought her on that because they'd sprung the courthouse wedding on her parents with very little forward notice.)

Richard's eyes found her and he smiled at her widely. He was not a superstitious human being and had not been adamant that they follow the tradition that they no see each one another until the actual ceremony. She was inclined to agree with that. However, her mother had been insistent that Alex be whisked away to be done up for the wedding. But, that being said, Maxine Reagan had been kind enough to wait until that morning to boot Richard out the door to get ready at Nic's apartment.

In hindsight, being separated, if only for a few hours, was a good thing because his reaction was worth it.

"You look beautiful, Alex," he said, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against the sapphire pin her mother had stuck there.

She flushed at that compliment. "Thanks. You don't look that bad yourself, Richard."

He blinked and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, shall we get this done? I believe that we have an appointment to keep."

"Yes, we do."

And so they went in.

The ceremony itself only lasted a few minutes. It was a matter of exchanging vows and rings in front of a justice of the peace. Throughout those few minutes, Alex was only vaguely aware of her family, Ruby and Mel, Amalia, and Nic and MK. (It had surprised her a little bit that MK had showed up because she didn't know the other woman nearly as well as Nic did, but Alex personally thought that MK and Nic would be a cute, if interesting, couple.)

Instead, all she could focus on was Richard in front of her and the justice who was guiding them through the ceremony.

And then, just like that, they were married.

 _ **Stephanotis – Happiness in marriage; desire to travel; come to me**_

Settling into marriage was amazingly easy to do.

Oh, Richard was still the stubborn, passionate skeptic and intellectual that he had always been. But, to be fair, Alex was also still the same journalist who was interested in delving into the Black Tapes and those cases that could not be solved to Richard's unsurprisingly high expectations.

They kept themselves mostly professional on the podcast, though there was no beating around the bush. At the beginning of their next season, Alex made the announcement that, yes, she and Richard were in a relationship and had been in one for a while, leading up to their marriage during the hiatus. As expected, they received the full spectrum of responses from their listening audience, though the reactions were overwhelmingly positive and congratulatory.

In the grand scheme of things, very little changed for them after the wedding.

While yes, there was paperwork involved and they did get the benefits of wedded life. Alex knew that Richard wouldn't say it, but the relief in his eyes was so evident now that they were officially each other's emergency contact. Alex felt the phantom pain from that damnable car accident. And she knew how he was feeling acutely because, if something were to happen to Richard she would want to be the first one to be called and be able to be in the hospital room with him

Being married to Richard Strand was not the definition of easy. Alex knew what she was getting into though. She already knew the man that the world saw and the man behind that very hard mask.

It wasn't all going to be sunshine and roses. There were enough hard days to go around. But those hard days weren't necessarily as hard, especially now that they were in each other's corners. Their arguments were certainly a thousand times less complicated now. (They didn't have to use words nearly as much. Alex just had to glare and Richard would scowl and eventually they would cool down.)

 _ **Red rose – I love you**_

Every single day, usually multiple times, Richard told her that he loved her.

It didn't matter when they fought or if work took them to different cities or any of the million other things that came up in their lives, he would always tell her. He preferred to tell her, usually in person or over the phone. If he couldn't do that, he would text her those four little words – _I love you, Alex_ – and she knew that he meant it. Sometimes, she would walk into the office and there was a bouquet of roses with a love note attached. (Those didn't happen all that much anymore. As much as she loved them, Alex let it slip how much Nic and the interns heckled her.)

In retrospect, Richard learned from the mistakes he had made during his marriage to Coralee and he so fiercely didn't want to repeat them with her. Alex felt an obligation to the woman for that.

Things were never easy for Richard though. He carried a lot of weight, especially with how things had happened with Coralee and Charlie. Coralee was still in the wind and Charlie still refused to speak with her father, even if Richard left the olive branch out in the open, if she ever changed her mind and wanted to take it. Alex would never tell him this, but she wanted Charlie to take that olive branch. (She reminded the other woman of that offer on the rare opportunity that she spoke with Charlie via Skype.)

And Alex told Richard that she loved him too, always multiple times every day.

He needed to hear that she loved him, even when they fought or when they got chest-deep in a case. It hadn't taken her very long to realize that those heart-felt words meant so much to him. For months, even years, he would blink and gape whenever she snuck up behind him, wrapped her arms around him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and told him those words.

Whenever a case took a turn for the worse, the love that they shared kept them going and gave them the strength that they needed to push through the hard times.

And she had never expected that this would have happened when a particularly terrible storm washed over Seattle, Washington, and Alex Reagan dragged a very stubborn Richard Strand back to her apartment to dry off and wait out the storm.

 _That's that. I hope that you all enjoyed my first foray into writing for "The Black Tapes" podcast fandom and the Strangan shippers._

 _Please review and let me know what you thought of this._


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